


Another

by Gemi



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Cannibalism, Gen, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-05-22 14:23:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6082692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemi/pseuds/Gemi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world has ended, and the turtles like to hunt what remains.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> An AU where the turtles never met humans, and now see them as food and entertainment. A collection of short stories of their current life that will be updated whenever. Murder babies, a seduced Leatherhead and a protective Donatello is what you guys can look forward to. Enjoy!

“What do we have here?” a quiet, amused voice asks. 

It echoes in the small alley. Leatherhead turns his head to look at the source, but he remains hunched over his food. Yellow eyes blinks, surprised at what he sees. 

There is a reptile like him.

Not like  _ him _ . But they walk on two legs, with green skin and smiling when they should not be able to. A turtle, he thinks. Words are hard to remember these days- but he thinks he is right. That is a turtle.

A turtle who smiles at him.

Brown eyes that meet his own without a hint of fear. The smile is soft, but something about it makes Leatherhead wary.  
He turns enough to look at the turtle properly. Still doesn’t leave his food.

“Who you?” he growls.

“Me?” the turtle replies. Takes a step closer and stops before Leatherhead can threaten him. “My name is Donatello.”

Leatherhead looks down at his food. Looks back at the turtle, and Donatello seems even more amused.

“Did they talk about me before you ate them?” he asks.

“Yes,” Leatherhead replies. His claws dig into the meat of the human. It’s half-eaten now, but he is still so  _ hungry _ . “You eat too.” He growls then, and bares all of his teeth. “This  _ mine _ .”

“I know. I’m not going to take your food away,” the turtle assures him, and Leatherhead believes him. “I was only curious. I didn’t know there were more mutants around.” He flicks his eyes down towards the remains. “Or anyone else who liked to eat the apes.” 

“Not much… food, now,” Leatherhead rumbles. Which is true; he is not sure what happened to make the world as it now is. But buildings are broken, humans skinny and few. The few animals still left are too fast or too small for him to catch.

“Yes. My brothers and I never go hungry, though,” Donatello says and comes even closer. This time Leatherhead doesn’t growl. He doesn’t do anything but watch.

And then Donatello is touching his blood-stained cheek and Leatherhead growls once more. But the turtle merely smiles and rubs some of the blood away, hand staying until Leatherhead’s growl fades. 

“And this can’t be enough to feed someone like you,” Donatello murmurs. His voice is too low to echo now, and Leatherhead leans in despite himself. 

“No.”

“You know, we have enough food for you too. Of course, you would have to promise to not eat the children.” He touches Leatherhead’s snout. Grins at the huff of warm air he gets. “We need them- they’re good at baiting other apes. But even if you don’t eat the children, you would still sleep with a full belly every day.”

It’s a good offer. Too good, and Leatherhead snarls.

“Why?”

“Why I offer?”

Leatherhead nods. Donatello hums and takes hold of his hand. The turtle is so small, his hand barely closing around one finger.  
Leatherhead had not realized how small he was. He carried himself bigger. As big as Leatherhead.

“Because,” he murmurs, his eyes too bright, too mesmerizing, “I want you to be mine.”

Leatherhead should think on those words.

But instead he nods.   
  
And Donatello smiles, soft and eerie, and Leatherhead feels warm inside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on Momo-rawrr's amazing picture! Found here: http://momorawrr.deviantart.com/art/LH-and-Don-01-585954926
> 
> She also drew this for later chapters: http://momorawrr.deviantart.com/art/On-a-Walk-592028458
> 
> Thank you Momo <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place around 5 years after the first chapter.

“Angel?”

“Yeah?”

“Should we help her?”

The children peered down into the hole. Shadow pouted up at them, blonde hair dirty, cheek red from the fall. She looked close to crying, her blue eyes suspiciously shiny and her bottom lip trembling as she clutched her ragdoll close. 

“I think we gotta,” Angel said with a dramatic sigh. “Or Donatello gonna kill us an’ eat us up in stew ‘cuz we didn’t help his  _ favorite _ .”

Tyler frowned.

“I love that stew,” he said, “but I ain’t gonna be  _ part _ of it.”

“Yeah, me neither. Shadow! Why were you bein’ a lil’ fucking  _ idiot _ ?”

“Was not!” Shadow cried, hiccuping. “Meanie, I was not!”

“Yeah you  _ were _ ! You helped set the trap, you lil’ shit! How you fall in it if you ain’t a idiot!?” 

“Is that the right way to talk to your little sister?”

Tyler and Angel froze. Slowly they looked over their shoulders.  
Donatello tilted his head and did that  _ thing _ , the one that vaguely reminded Angel about her abuela before the catastrophe happened. The eyebrow thing, except Donatello had no eyebrows but Angel still felt like she was about to get grounded for an eternity. 

“No, Donnie,” Tyler muttered and kicked a rock. 

Donatello hummed. Turned his weird, scary eyes towards Angel.  
She much prefered Mikey’s eyes. They weren’t creepy black, just a weird blue.

“No, I ain’t supposed to talk to her like that,” Angel groaned and crossed her arms. “But it ain’t my fault she fell in!”

“She is little, compared to you two. It’s your job to watch for her-  _ especially _ when trap-making,” Donatello scolded. “If you don’t, I will have to remove some privileges. Like street hockey. Or,” he added, and gave them a smile filled with teeth, “Maybe I will make you into Tyler’s favorite stew. Shame, since that means he wouldn’t get to eat it.”

It was silent for a moment. They stared nervously at him, and he calmly stared back.  
Finally, the turtle chuckled and nudged them aside.

“Go and help Mikey prepare dinner,” he told them and jumped down into the hole, “but do this again and I  _ will _ ground you two. Hello, my darling,” Donatello cooed and picked up the little girl. Shadow sniffled and wrapped her arms around his neck, ragdoll dangling against his shell. “Do you have a boo-boo? There, there, love, I’ll kiss it better once we’re out of this hole.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Donatello finds a baby in an abandoned apartment, why not bring it back home?

One day, Donatello returned with a bundle.

It smelled odd. When Leatherhead sniffed at it, it started making crying sounds.  
He flinched back with a snarl, which was only soothed away when Donatello reached out and stroked his snout.

“Sssh, it’s alright,” he cooed, and Leatherhead nuzzled into the touch. Donatello smiled. “it’s only a little human. Look,” he said, and pulled back the fabric.

Leatherhead peered down at it.  
  
It was small, with a pink face. Little blonde tufts of human fur stood straight up. As he watched, it scrunched up its face and let out another cry, its tiny hands balled up.  
He eyed it. Then he gave Donatello a sceptical look.  
  
The turtle grinned.  
  
“I know,” he said, “but I thought it could be useful. Maybe it can be used to hunt other humans in the future.” Donnie looked back down at it. “Leo agreed to a trial run.”  
  
Leatherhead huffed.  
  
But it was not his place to disagree.  
  


-  
  


“Shadow.”

  
Leatherhead opened one eye. Donatello was leaning against him, a warm weight against Leatherhead’s side. In Donatello’s lap was the little human. It was giggling, grasping at the turtle’s fingers. The eyes were blue and wide with something Leatherhead thought might be fascination.

“Shadow,” Donatello repeated. Smoothed out the messy, blonde tufts with his other hand. The little thing was held up by his knees, safely kept in place. Not like it moved much anyway. “That’s her name.”

“Her?” Leatherhead asked, rumbling. Curled up tighter around Donnie and the human, to peek closer at it. Her. Leatherhead purred when he was given a brief pet to his snout from the turtle.  
“Yes, Shadow is a girl.”  
“You _named_ it?” Mikey asked, and when they looked at him he was grinning over his comic-book, blue eyes focused on Donnie. “Isn’t that, like, the worst thing you can do _ever_?”

“Don’t be silly,” Donatello sniffed and hugged the girl closer. “even hunting dogs need names.”

Leatherhead said nothing.

Instead he watched Shadow try to chew on her own foot, her blue eyes watching him curiously.  
  


-  
  


Leatherhead squirmed when the harness was put on him. It felt odd and vaguely uncomfortable when the object that Donatello called ‘baby carrier’ was fastened onto the harness, but he obediently kept still; it didn’t weigh anything. It simply felt _odd_.

Leatherhead tilted his head so he could look down at his front when Donatello slipped Shadow inside.

The little girl giggled. Patted at Leatherhead’s chest, a soft drumming sound. He huffed and shifted slightly. Donatello merely chuckled, smoothing out her hair. Stroked Leatherhead’s snout.

“There we go,” he murmured, “now she will be safe and warm.”

Leatherhead growled an agreement; he was still uncertain as to _why_ Donatello fussed so much over the strange little thing. But it was _Donatello’s_ strange little thing, and Leatherhead had been told to protect it. And so he would.

Shadow rested one chubby cheek against Leatherhead’s chest. Fifteen minutes into their walk through the desolate city, and she was already asleep.

They were careful to be quiet. He put his large hands over her small body when Donatello killed two unlucky humans, protecting Shadow from the blood splatter and muffling their screaming. And when Donatello began to cut them up for easier transportation, Leatherhead helped with one hand hovering over Shadow’s blonde little head.

She had woken by now. Whenever he looked down at her strange, squishy looking face, he saw bubbles made from drool and big, blue eyes staring up at him. Sometimes she would be squirming and twisting, trying to catch sight of Donatello.

Donatello would always smile and coo back at her.  
  
Eventually, so did Leatherhead.


	4. A Short for Momo

Leatherhead wasn’t moving.  
  
Donatello realized this quickly. He took note, in a clinical way.   
He stopped moving for a brief second; a mistake, perhaps, if not for the fact that the humans around them stopped as well.   
  
Leatherhead wasn’t moving.  
  
Apparently the humans hadn’t thought their plan would work.  
  
Donatello took a second to stare; frozen, his heart clenching. His pet wasn’t moving; he shouldn’t care.   
Leatherhead was a pet, nothing more. A big beast to keep his little pups safe from humans and prey.  
  
And yet he cared.  
  
A second of shock, of clinical note. And then Donatello’s eyes narrowed and he _snarled_ , smacking his staff into one of the attacker’s knees. A loud crack followed; but before the human even began to scream, Donatello was continuing his assault and steadily working himself closer to Leatherhead. The humans who surrounded him were panicking, and Donnie doubted he would meet much resistance once he arrived.  
  
It didn’t take long to make them run. There were two bodies left behind, enough food for two weeks if the rationed it right.   
  
But that was not important right now.  
  
Donatello slid the staff back into its holster. He gently touched Leatherhead’s snout, one hand hovering over his nostrils as he waited.   
The other hand travelled up and up, wiping away the blood slowly oozing from the wounds on the reptile’s large head.  
  
There. Warm, humid air as Leatherhead slowly breathed out.  
  
Donatello’s hands shook. He released a trembling breath and curled over his pet’s body, hugging that big head as he tried to calm his heart.  
  
“Not fair,” mumbled, giving the mutant’s head a kiss, smearing blood onto himself and the dark green scales as he did, “not fair, pet. Important realizations are to be had _outside_ of battle.”  
  
Leatherhead did not respond. Donatello didn’t care; he stayed there, breathing with him until Leatherhead woke once more.  
And when he did, the turtle scolded and petted him, wiping away the blood and ignoring the concerned stare he was given in return.   
  
Leatherhead did not need to know what Donnie now knew, after all. Not yet.  
  
He did not need to know that Donatello loved him far too much, far too soon.


End file.
